


Prognosis

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Time Travel, but only to the near future, kind of fluffy i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:34:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale meets his future self and discoveries that he becomes a selfish, heartless, lonely douche bag<br/>Well that's just unacceptable</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prognosis

**Author's Note:**

> this is un beta'd
> 
> also it's late and i'm tired and this was just one of those spur of the moment things so yeah don't expect too much

It has been a week. A week of reliving the same escape plan he participated in 7 years ago. Only this time he’s the older sibling, and he’s not being chased. That being said, Derek doesn’t feel any better. He doesn’t feel worse either, just different. He’s been away from Beacon Hills for a week, staying in the old apartment in Ney York with Cora. Everything he’s doing at the moment is for her. Searching for a new pack, finding a place to settle down, resting and healing. It’s been tedious but nothing their not used to.

Derek had left Beacon Hills for everyone’s sake. Scott’s the new Alpha, and him and his pack are better off without Derek. Bad luck seems to be riding his tailcoats, and he’d rather not burden anyone. He left quietly with no fuss, informing Scott via text and driving out of town instantaneously. He cut off all his ties to them, and left them in peace. It was in everyone’s best interest. Well, almost everyone. Stiles doesn’t seem to think that Derek leaving is the best idea, in fact Stiles tells him this every day. Derek never replies, and Stiles never stops texting.

He’s sitting comfortably on the pull-out couch reading a book when his phone goes off. Derek doesn’t even need to look at the phone to know that it’s Stiles. Letting out a sigh he grabs the phone to read whatever new message Stiles has sent, Derek tells himself it’s just because he’s bored.

_Got fashion policed by Lydia, apparently I can’t pull of a leather jacket. You should come back so I can show her I’d look good in your jacket_

_-Stiles_

Rolling his eyes Derek chucks the phone back onto the couch cushion. Stiles had been sending him this random bullshit over the last week. It’s always some random gossip, or update on supernatural business. Derek wouldn’t be surprised if Stiles tells him that Isaac has fallen down a well. His phone bleeps again.

_To be fair, no one can pull off a leather jacket like you can. Btw is it like werewolf code to own a leather jacket or just a preference?_

_-Stiles_

He glares at his phone for a few moments until he remembers that Stiles can’t see him and therefore cannot be glared into submission. Even if Stiles were here it wouldn’t have worked, it never really worked. Stiles isn’t scared of him, and he certainly is not afraid to stand up to him. Even as the Alpha, Stiles still would’ve stood up to him.

Sighing, Derek puts the phone and the book down and gets up for a snack. As he’s walking past the window something catches his eye. He stops in his tracks and turns to inspect whatever is out of place. His green eyes widen at the intricate symbol painted across his window, blocking some of the sunlight. Stepping closer he sees that the purple paint is fresh and is still running. He shivers, remembering that the last time something like this happened; it meant trouble, especially the fatal kind.

He reaches a hand out to trace the symbol, not recognising it from anywhere. Suddenly there’s a strong force behind him and he’s being pushed forward. His body collides with solid glass, sending shards flying and himself falling. A light feeling fills his gut and everything seems to quiet for what is happening. Just before he meets the pavement below everything goes black. Derek knows he’s not dead, unfortunately.

-

Waking up the first thing he notices is that his hands are tied behind him around a wooden beam and that something smells off. Blinking his eyes and looking around Derek comes face to face with....himself.

“What the fuck?” He slurs, staring up at his doppelganger, whom he has decided to call D in his head just to ease the absurdity of the situation.

“Already asked that. Now tell me what you are?” D demands angrily.

Looking up at his clone, Derek notices he looks pretty much the same. A little older maybe, definitely a lot more guilty and tired. Chancing a look at his eyes, D is definitely lonely. Scenting the air, he’s certain that this is his apartment that he was in just moments ago, and that the man before him is in fact himself. Considering the magic Derek has witnessed in the past time travel isn’t much of a stretch.

“What year is it?” Derek asks. This only seems to enrage D more, if his growl is anything to go by.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Damn, are his trust issues really this bad? He sighs and rolls his eyes, “Just answer my question, then maybe I can answer yours.”

Being on the receiving end of his own famous scowl is really weird. He has no doubt that Stiles would have some ridiculous name for this moment. Like Derek-ception or something. Jesus, he thinks to himself, how did Stiles never hit me?

“2015. Now talk.”

Even in 2 years he still has a low tolerance for bullshit. That’s good to know.

“I’m you from 2013.” D only growls at him, “Come on, just fucking sniff me, I smell like you, and you know it!”

D eyes him suspiciously. Crouching down so their face to face, his own death glare looming in full view. “If you’re me, prove it.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

D shrugs. “You figure it out.”

Douche bag. Wait, he just insulted himself. Meh, it’s still true. Okay, what’s something only he would know? Can’t use Paige, even Peter knows about that. Everyone knows about Kate. Is there anyone who didn’t hear about Jennifer, or Julia, whatever her real name is? Something no one knows, no one at all. Oh!

“You remember the kanima?” He calls out to D.

D turns around so fast, you’d think Derek had told him he won the lottery.

“What about it?” He grumbles.

“That night when we were paralysed, and Stiles had to hold us up in the pool for 2 hours. We told him that we didn’t trust him and that he didn’t trust us.”

D looks really pissed off now. “So! You’re telling me pointless facts, this doesn’t prove anything.”

“We were lying.”

D goes very quiet. Silent in fact. “What?”

“We lied. Not intentionally, but Stiles did trust us. At least a little bit. After he saved us from drowning, when we swore he would leave us there, we trusted him too. I still don’t why he did it, he really should’ve just left us there anyone else would’ve.”

D stares at him, a calculating look in his eye.

“Let’s just pretend that you are me,” He whispers in a scary disbelieving voice, “how the hell did you get sent 2 years into the future?”

Derek sighs; at least this is an easy answer. “Purple symbol painted on my window, got pushed through my window, now I’m here.”

“So it was an accident.”

Derek refrains from hitting himself. Not for time travel rule reasons, no but just because he doesn’t trust this older version of himself not to murder him.

“Actually I’m pretty sure it was intentional. Someone wants me to be here.”

D just grumbles something irrelevant and storms off through the apartment. Derek follows after him. He watches as D grabs a bottle of whiskey and just chugs straight from the bottle. He wants to question why he bothers when werewolves can’t get drunk, but he’s a little scared of the answer he’ll receive.

“So where’s the pack?”

D puts the bottle down and raises an eyebrow. Jesus, the shit Stiles would say about his eyebrows, that boy could right sonnets about his fucking eyebrows. In fact the whole pack could, probably have even.

“Don’t have one.”

“Not even Cora?”

D looks off into the distance, clearly running through some old memories. “She’s with her new pack.”

“And you stayed here as an omega. Why?”

D stares at him like he’s stupid, hand flexing with an itch to punch and claw. “You’re me. So you know that having a pack is a liability for us. Family just gets used against us or taken away. Having a pack like McCall just holds us back, all the training and teenage drama, and then having to keep track of so many people. That’s not even counting those stupid fragile humans.”

“How can you say that?!” A horrible gut twisting rage, filled with passion and meaning curls inside himself. A feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. “Yes having a pack is a liability, but that’s the point. Because it’s more than family, and pack means through good times and bad. You should envy Scott for his pack and the support he has, because look around Derek, you have NO ONE. And you should know that humans aren’t stupid, you of all people. Sure they may be fragile, but they risk a lot more for us werewolves, more than you ever have for them, for him. You owe him, you know?”

D stares at him with disgust and pity. A bitter laugh passes through his lips and he stances himself to loom over Derek.

“If you believe everything you just so convincingly preached at me, then why did you leave them? Answer me that?”

D may or may not know this, but Derek had expected this. So he’s about to repeat the mantra that’s been going through his head since he started packing his duffle bag.

“For them. I left for them. Because with me around it hurts them, and I will not hurt my pack if I can help it. They deserve better, they have Scott now.”

D shakes his head and laughs in disbelief. “You have no idea how selfish you are, do you? Don’t answer that. I pity you, mostly because you’re me and I remember being like you. So I’m going to do you a favour, why don’t we visit your little pack?”

-

The car trip to Beacon Hills had either been completely silent or filled with heated arguments about things that have happened. Like the fact that D hasn’t spoken to Cora for the last 2 years. Derek’s never been a fan of himself, but this future version of himself is something he fears to become.

They pull up outside Scott’s house, Derek knows this is the first of many stops. He stares at D expectantly.

“So, what are you going to show me?”

D rolls his eyes. “Haven’t you noticed that no one has greeted us? They know we’re here. They don’t know there are two of us though because we smell the same.”

“Why hasn’t Scott come out to see us?”

D shifts in his seat a little clearly getting ready to watch whatever’s going down in the house. “For starters he’s scared of us again. We haven’t spoken for 2 years, and he knows that I’ve received every distress call or plead for help. So there’s no trust too.”

Derek lets his jaw drop, and judges D with just his face alone.

“If you want to see what’s been happening since you’ve stepped out of the picture take a look.”

Derek listens in to the sounds going on in the house, and watches the window into the living room. He can see Scott and his father arguing, he can hear it too but he’s choosing to mute that out. Mr McCall clearly says something out of line which sends Scott storming off to his room where Isaac is waiting. Derek hears the reassurance and the apologies which he expects, but then he hears panic and fear, and Isaac’s anxious tone trying to reach Scott.

“What the hell is happening?”

D sighs. “I forgot, they kept you out of the loop. Scott, Allison and Stiles all sacrificed themselves to save their parents. Scott is currently suffering from the darkness which is just a side effect.”

“THEY DIED?!” Derek roars, literally roars. He winces a little, realising that everyone inside he McCall house would’ve heard.

D starts up the engine and starts heading to their next destination.

“Yes they died. I only know this because Stiles tried to confide in us after his first episode. We ignored him of course.”

D stops when he sees Derek’s look of revulsion. “Clearly hasn’t happened to you yet.”

“This better be some terrible nightmare.” Derek grumbles.

-

They’ve pulled up outside the Martin house; well it’s more like a mini mansion. Derek stares up at the expensive building and sees the light on in what he assumes is Lydia’s room.

“Why are we here?”

D rolls his eyes, “Just listen.”

Derek listens in and here’s both Lydia and Allison getting ready for bed. The light goes out and he hears their heartbeats slow. After a few moments one of the hearts starts to increase in tempo, and then there’s a scream. A horrible heart stopping, air slicing scream. It’s Allison. It only takes seconds after Allison starts screaming for Lydia to wake up and start soothing her.

“Darkness.” D says as explanation. “Oh, and Allison lives here now.”

“Why?”

“Chris Argent died, last year. Got mauled by some supernatural creature, trying to protect your old pack. He’d probably still be alive if we’d been there.”

Derek growls, he can’t help it. “Don’t so that! You don’t get to force your guilt onto me; I haven’t done anything to deserve it yet.”

“You’ve left Beacon Hills haven’t you?” D smirks as Derek nods, “You’ve done enough.”

-

The final stop is outside the Stilinski house. Derek can hear only one heartbeat. Stiles rabbit like heart ticking away too fast, even as he sleeps. He doesn’t need to ask D why they’re here, doesn’t stop him from answering though.

“He’s suffering the most. Also the only one who cared about you from you start. Did you know he actually defended you when Scott accused you of murder the second time around?”

Derek hadn’t known that. When had that happened? He’d heard Stiles tell his dad that it was him. Thinking back now though, if he’d said something against what Scott was saying it would have been an even bigger mess. But why had Stiles defended him back then? He was afraid of him then, and had warned Scott to stay away. Back then even Derek thought Stiles was just Scott’s friend who talked too much and was the best of a bad situation.

He hears the tempo rise in Stiles’ heartbeat almost instantly. A mantra of “No no no,” starts spilling from his lips, and he’s violently tossing around and scrunching up the bed sheets. Stiles doesn’t wake with a scream like Allison had. No he just wakes up sobbing and shaking, but he doesn’t sound surprised. He actually just sounds tired and disappointed in himself.

Derek suddenly realises that Stiles has to deal with his ‘darkness’ alone. Scott and Allison both had a friend at their side to comfort them, Stiles has no one.

“How can you just sit here knowing he’s suffering?” Derek whispers harshly at D.

“People say you can’t lie to a werewolf, well when that werewolf is yourself it’s pretty simple.”

“You chose to let him suffer. You chose not to feel any sympathy or even pity for them. You’re a fucking psychopath!”

“No, I’m you.”

Derek couldn’t even deny that. Sure he could say that he wasn’t this horrible fucking thing sitting before him yet, but that didn’t change that it was possible. It’s the truth. The cold ugly truth and he can’t handle it.

Just as he’s about to start up another rant with his future self, something moves out the corner of his eye. Stiles is sound asleep again, and that’s reassuring, but the figure perched on the rooftop next to his window is terrifying. Derek dashes out of the car without a second thought. He leaps up onto the roof, and his stomach drops when the figure swoops into Stiles’ room.

He dives into the room after the intruder and stops. His heart catches in his throat, and closes his eyes not daring to look at the scene before him. Stiles with a wolf bite on his exposed left shoulder, open wound red and gory. Peter, his uncle looking smug, with Alpha red eyes looming over the boy. Stiles’ blood dripping from his chin.

The scent of Stiles’ blood becomes to much and he forces his eyes open and is lunging at his uncle. Derek has his claws at the man’s throat but Peter only looks curious.

“Long time no see nephew. But you’re not from this timeline are you? Of course you aren’t, you’re showing feelings, and even more interesting for a human you claim to rank as a useless liability.”

Derek growls and bares his fangs.

“Don’t be like that, Stiles will make an excellent wolf.”

A groan of pain erupts from behind them. “The searing pain begs to differ.”

Derek abandons his uncle, and rushes to Stiles’ side. The boy looks so much more mature and worn, and tired, so fucking tired. Derek fears he isn’t even sleeping. Those amber eyes that scarily resemble a Beta look at him with shock and then realisation.

“You’re not my Derek.”

“You claim that selfish absent douche bag as yours?”

Stiles smirks, despite the obvious pain he’s suffering from. “You used to be mine too, but many unanswered texts later you stopped existing. I’d rather you be my Derek, but I’m pretty sure that’d fuck up the space time continuum or something else equally destructive.”

Derek laughs, he can’t help it, he hasn’t head Stile’s voice in so long or one of his rambling speeches. The rawness of his throat alerts Derek to how long it’s been since he honest to God laughed.

Derek frowns at the wolf bite on Stiles shoulder. It wasn’t healing. It should be healing, if he’s a wolf now. It’s not healing and the only reason a bite doesn’t heal is if it doesn’t take. When it bite doesn’t take it means it kills you.

“I know.”

Derek’s breaths come in short and sharp and he’s staring wide eyed at Stiles, who is just smiling sadly up at him. Peter clears his throat and exists via the window. Derek can’t even be bothered to be mad at him, not now not when Stiles is fading right before him.

Derek feels tears prick his eyes; he tries to blink them away. He grips Stiles shoulders and just holds onto him, because this can’t be happening again, not again.

“Your life’s really repetitive.”

Derek chokes out a sob laugh hybrid, because how can Stiles just say shit like that when he’s dying. But he’s Stiles so why wouldn’t he?

“You’re dying. This is so unfair.” Derek whispers, but Stiles hears him loud and clear.

“It was going to happen eventually.”

“You can’t just say shit like that Stiles! You don’t deserve this. You should’ve had a normal life. I should’ve... I could’ve done something......this didn’t have to happen.”

“You and I both know that I would’ve gotten mixed up in this supernatural crap one way or other.”

Derek sighs and shakes his head. Stiles winces in pain, and Derek immediately starts taking it away from him. Black veins start winding their way up his arm, and it hurts so much, but he doesn’t care.

Stiles pushes his hands away, and Derek furrows his eyebrows.

“You’re not going through this again.”

“....How-?”

“Not important. Just... I just don’t want you having to do that, not again.”

Derek frowns, but agrees nonetheless. There’s no point arguing with Stiles, he’s tried it never ends well. So he just sits down on the bed next to Stiles and holds him tight. Surprisingly they sit in silence for a few minutes. Derek can feel Stiles drifting, can hear his heart slowing. His heart aches and now Derek understands why his future self cut off his feelings. But thinking about Derek would take this pain 10 times over than ever leave Stiles and the rest of his pack to whither up and die.

“I’m sorry for digging up your sister, and for accusing you of murder twice, and for threatening to leave you to die in the woods, and for being stuck with me when you were paralysed, and for being paralysed on top of you, and for not believing you could punch through a wall, and for bringing up Kate when I was pissed off, and for trespassing on your ‘private property.’”

“Why are you telling me this stuff?”

“Because other me might not ever tell you.” Stiles somehow has enough life-force to put on a wicked grin, “But I’m not sorry for calling you Sour wolf, or for almost cutting off your arm, for harbouring your fugitive ass even though my dad’s the sheriff, or for holding you up in the pool for 2 hours when I could have just dropped you, for making the jokes that caused you to punch me, for waking you up from unconsciousness by almost punching you again, for risking my life against a twin alpha monster just with a baseball bat to buy you some time, and I’m not sorry for texting you every day since you left for the last 2 years.”

Derek wants to say something, anything. But what do you say when someone throws all of that at you?

“And one last thing.” Stiles’ eyelids are drooping and his body is going limp, but trust him to just barely rasp out his last words.

“You’re a fucking terrible liar. I do trust you and I do care. I care about you. Derek I cared so much about you that it killed me, literally.”

Before Derek can even get a word in edgeways, he’s being pulled back and is suddenly swallowed up by pitch black darkness. If it were possible to cry in this space he would. He’d cry for ever.

-

As soon as he’s back in his apartment he runs for his duffle bag and starts packing. He doesn’t even look he just snatches and stuffs. Cora returns from wherever she was and is clearly confused by Derek’s little scene he’s created.

“Did you finally lose your mind or...?

‘We’re going back.”

“Back where?”

“Home.”

Cora sighs and flops down onto the pullout couch. “We don’t have a home.”

Derek starts attempting to zip the bulging duffle bag shut. “I do. I’m a dumbass who walked away from it.”

“We’re going back to Beacon Hills?”

Finally getting his bag shut Derek looks up and sees that his little sister actually looks happy for him.

“Yes.”

She grins, “You miss all the action don’t you?”

Derek sighs, “Actually that’s one thing I don’t miss.”

Cora starts packing up her stuff at high speed. “Then why the sudden change of heart?”

Derek helps her zip her suitcase shut, “Intuition.”

Cora slings her bag over her shoulder. “You know that I know that was a lie.”

“Yep.”

They make their way down to the car, and Derek can’t wait to get the Camaro back. They settle into the front seats and Derek starts the car.

“If this has anything to do with a particular teenage boy who can’t shut up and makes me want to punch him, I won’t ask.”

Derek can feel her eye boring into him.

“You’re not allowed to punch him.”

-

Upon arriving in Beacon Hills Derek drops Cora off at the lost to get settled in again and to unpack. Meanwhile he drives to the Stilinski house.

He’s just parking outside when he gets a text.

_Don’t be dead, DONT BE DEAD YOU BASTARD Just reply so that I know Kate didn’t kill you_

_-Stiles_

Derek bolts from the car and heads straight for the roof. He swoops in through the window and lands swiftly on the floor. Anxiously looking around, Derek finds Stiles backed into a corner shaking and eyes darting everywhere.

Derek approaches him carefully.

“Stiles, it’s me. Derek. I’m right here. I’m alive. See? Not dead.”

Stiles’ eyes finally focus on him and he flings himself forward and wraps him in a chokehold of a hug. Derek just holds on and lets Stiles cry. Stiles sobs for a few minutes before wiping his eyes and looking up at him.

“Okay you can disappear now, I’ve had enough hallucinations for one day.”

Derek frowns. “I’m not a hallucination.”

“Please. I’m tired, just stop, just fucking stop.”

Derek steps closer, and Stiles backs away. No, this isn’t what he wants. Stiles isn’t supposed to be scared of him. He keeps stepping forward until Stiles is pressed against the wall.

Gingerly, Derek reaches forward and loosely grasps Stiles’ wrists. The boy starts shaking, and tears fall silently down his flushed cheeks.

“I’m real. I promise I won’t hurt you. Look at me Stiles, I’m right here, I’m back, and I’m here to stay.”

Stiles laughs bitterly, “Definitely not real. Derek doesn’t care about me, and he’s never coming back. Why would he come back here, bad memories, people that have betrayed him, and I’m just a fucking nuisance-“

Derek crashes their mouths together. He will not let Stiles talk like that, and well kissing him is kind of fantastic. Stiles is to shocked to cooperate at first, but slowly his soft mouth begins to move. He kisses back desperate and shakily, like he’s afraid Derek will slip away at any moment.

Derek grabs one of Stiles’ hands and places it over his heart, and places his own hand against Stiles’ chest even though he can already hear the erratic heartbeat.

“I’m real, you’re real. This is actually happening, I promise you that.”

Stiles starts roaming his hands all over Derek, because of course he’s not going to believe Derek even after that. His hands don’t stop feeling up his chest and shoulders until he reaches Derek’s ass. Then his hands stop and of fucking course Stiles just has to squeeze. The boy lets out a hysterical laugh.

“Not the most mainstream welcome back.” Stiles doesn’t look him in the eye, but he does drop his hands.

“You’re not the most normal of people.”

Stiles head whips up, “Was that a compliment? Did Derek Hale compliment me? Why did you just compliment me?”

“Because you deserve it, and I’ve had to re-evaluate my life.”

Stiles just gapes at him for a few moments in complete shocked silence.

“I’m still trying to process the fact that you’re back. Why are you back?”

Derek leads Stiles over to his bed and sits him down, because he’ll need to sit down for this.

“I had to tell you something.”

Stiles stares up at him amber eyes very much alive and expecting.

“I’m sorry for being really unhelpful when Scott was first turned, I’m sorry for forcing you to cut off my arm, I’m sorry for breaking into your room and making you lie to your dad, I’m sorry you almost had to face Peter alone, I’m sorry you got stuck alone with Peter, I’m sorry Peter attacked Lydia, I’m sorry for turning Jackson into the Kanima, I’m sorry Erica knocked you unconscious, I’m sorry for yelling at you when you kept me afloat, I’m sorry Matt held you at gunpoint, I’m sorry you had to be paralysed on top of me, I’m sorry your dad got dragged into this mess blind, I’m sorry for Heather, I’m sorry for punching you, I’m sorry your dad got kidnapped, I’m sorry for basically ruining your life, I’m sorry our first meeting wasn’t on different terms, and I’m sorry for leaving, especially without saying goodbye.”

Stiles blinks at him in awe “I-”

“I’m not finished yet.”

Now Stiles looks really shocked.

“I’m not sorry that I got stuck with you when I was dying, I’m not sorry for protecting you from Peter, I’m not sorry for protecting you from Isaac, I’m not sorry that you saved my life in the pool, I’m not sorry that you’re the reason most of us are still alive, I’m not sorry that you helped plan to save Cora, I’m not sorry you told your dad the truth, I’m not sorry that I started trusting you, I’m not sorry that we meet, I’m not sorry that you sometimes you shock me and make me get lost for a second, I’m not sorry that you’ve brought me back to consciousness twice, I’m not sorry that I made you stay in the ambulance at the hospital because I couldn’t let you get hurt, I’m not sorry for caring about you.”

Stiles blinks, once, twice, three times. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Really? That’s all you got from this?”

Stiles smirks, “But I do want to know, why the hell did you feel the need to say all of that?”

“Because life is short and I have the most embarrassing crush on you.”

He can hear Scott and Isaac gasping and cackling out on Stiles’ porch, and you know what? He doesn’t care. For once in his life he’s getting a slice of happiness without a side order of death and grief. Besides he knows Scott and Isaac send each other terrible poetry, so they can just shut up.


End file.
